Empty Glasses
by amandazgreat
Summary: It's at least worth it to try, isn't it?


Just wanted to say that it's official: I'm writing some of these for myself alone. I get ideas that won't leave me alone, so now I'm finally using this as a place to put them. So I'm aware that the writing quality isn't good or anything, and the formatting sucks, but like I said, it's for me now. It's fine. And if something's terribly inaccurate? Oh well. Don't complain about it, please. While getting a review or two would be great, when it comes to this one... I honestly don't care.

Anyway. One-shot, unless I find a reason to continue, which I find unlikely. And in general news, I've decided that I'll try writing stuff and actually submitting it frequently... probably more one-shots on a monthy (or, perhaps, biweekly) basis. I'm not sure. But for me, it's just that the "quality vs. quantity" argument doesn't work; I don't write enough so I **can **get better, so I need to start writing more either way

Eh. Cheers!

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**Empty Glasses**

"Another."

The voice, gruffer than the usual lighthearted drawl, had such a viciously saddened undertone in its simple order. The bartender complied silently, keeping his comforting words unsaid this time. The man in black looked to have too much on his mind for such idle words, so it was naturally out of respect that he kept his mouth shut.

Gloved fingers scratched at the scarred, saturated wood of the bar. The scent of cheap booze lingered so heavily that the overly weak-stomached would not even need a sip before feeling undeniably ill. For most here, though, senses were dulled enough that they were nothing but an afterthought, much like anniversaries and politics.

The glass was slammed onto the bar again, its contents having been consumed in less time than it took to fill. As if reconsidering, the gloved hand picked up the glass again and brought the curved edge to chapped lips, as to ensure that the last drop could was not left alone at the bottom. Afterwards, a sigh was released, another gloved hand being brought to the back of a hooded head.

Still wasn't working.  
It was just one goddamned, hilarious irony.

The night was slow. Instead of the loud and excited chatter of normal nights that filled the place with life, only murmurs were cast from lonely lips, only meaningless conversations held. Even the bartender took slow swigs from a cold bottle, melancholy as the place was.

It was quiet enough late that evening that the majority of heads turned when the noise of the door opening was heard, even in the common, drunken states of unawareness. Others, however, remained stationary, and would gladly admit that they didn't give a damn about yet another soul being pulled into their collective mass.

The newcomer was dressed in heavy boots and a large, black coat; an identity-hiding hood was pulled around his darkened face. A few eyebrows around the room rose in surprise when it was realized that the figure was far too similar to the other hooded man sitting up at the bar, but interest was soon lost once logic told those tainted minds that it was nothing more than a coincidence.

The first man exhaled slowly, leaning to rest his head in his arms, despite the strong smell of the spills deeply ingrained in the wood. He still refused to look up, even when he heard the piercing screech of the stool sliding next to his. A body descended to his left, but despite the clothing, he knew automatically that his visitor was not exactly an ally.

Silence filled the moment as each of the two willed each other to speak the first word. Finally, the challenge was met.

"...I always pictured you as an angry drunk. Or maybe even a happy one." A silver lock of hair peeked out of the hood as the deep voice rang out. It was quickly hidden as a hand, also gloved, tapped the bar and pointed at the empty glasses that were littered around the head and arms of whom he was addressing.

"M'not drunk," the other assured, as if disappointed that the fact was true.

"Can Nobodies even get drunk?" the newcomer asked idly.

"What the hell does it look like I've been trying to find out?" He rose to his usual slouch again, taking his arms down to his lap. It was obvious that he was on his guard now.

The silver-haired looked at the empty glasses again suspiciously. "How many have you had?"

"Twenty-three." He answered without hesitation. This was starting to humor him.

"...Twenty-three in one night?"

A slight smirk graced his pale face. "In the last hour."

"I suppose that answers my question," he said, a little bit of malice lacing the deep reverberations of his voice.

"Aren't you a little young to be in here, anyway?" Another sigh, somewhat exasperated. He finally lifted his slender fingers to his hood, pulling it down with practiced ease. Blazing red hair fell to his shoulders as he stretched nonchalantly.

A scoff. "Because it is _so_ easy to tell my true age while I'm in this body, I'm sure." He followed suit, letting the pale lights grace his darker skin and glinting, golden eyes as the hood dropped. He finally took the filled glass of liquor he had ordered upon his arrival and downed it quickly.

"Heh." The redhead smiled softly. "So how well does that body hold it, anyway?"

"Better than I've hoped for on many occasions," the silver-haired man admitted. It was his opinion that if he had gone through the trouble to drink for a distraction, it should have had more of an affect on him. Again, it was irony. He switched the subject. "You sure you were just trying to see if it would work this time? Positive you weren't debating the meaning of life or something?"

Axel scowled visibly, but did not make it overly obvious. "Yeah. I've always loved doing that, with that whole "life" thing, especially since I don't actually _have_ one and all."

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant that you looked more ... thoughtful than usual."

He swirled yet another drink, gazing intently at it as he answered. "Oh. Thinking. I heard it was supposed to be good for you, you should try it sometime."

"Funny."

"Isn't it?"

This time, he was the one who sighed. He ran his gloved fingers through silver strands as he, too, avoided eye contact.

"...You look too much like him." He frowned as he said it, clearly associating the other's form with the one who was called The Superior. It made sense, of course, considering the entire course of events, but it was still unnerving. He had been hoping to evade all of his former allies, especially the one at the head of it all. So many of them, of the Organization, were already gone, killed at the hands of the Keyblade Master... and those who remained held on to only vengeance and their one all-consuming desire – to regain that which was lost. He sure as hell didn't want to be caught anywhere in all of it, at least not more so than he already was.

When he was met with silence, the redhead continued. "I'm the one who kidnapped her."

A breath, a pause, and then a small nod.

"...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He turned his face, allowing their eyes to finally meet.

At first, he was surprised. He saw what could only be described as sorrow, as remorse in those emerald eyes. He supposed that at some point in time, those eyes must have been so bright; now, they were faded. Defeated. He lifted his hand to his own head again, shaking it slightly. "I know you are," Riku breathed.

Axel narrowed his eyes skeptically. "How would you know? 'How could you be sorry if you don't have a heart,' isn't that what you should be asking?"

Riku stared straight at him, unfaltering. "Do you really believe that? Do you really think anything your Superior says is true?"

He froze. To say that he wasn't taken aback would be a lie.

"I don't." He said it with unexpected force to it. He had always felt that with the Nobodies, there was more there than the "nothing" they claimed to have. He saw it in that boy he had battled back then, after he had started watching his fake, computer-generated life unfold. He'd felt a little sorry for the kid, but paid little mind to that fact because he of his defeat from before. But here, he saw it again in Axel – Nobodies are not the nothing they are given their name for.

Axel buried his face in his hands. Silence once again took the both of them, but at long last, he had something to say. Something he had been thinking for far too long. "...I miss him."

He shifted, taking another drink and glancing up towards the ceiling as he thought as well. "Yeah. I miss him too."

He knew who Riku spoke of. It wasn't the same at all. But after a moment of reconsideration, he changed his mind – they really were looking for the same person.

Different parts, sure. But it was the same nonetheless.

Axel slowly got to his feet, the stool once again screeching as it slid. He pulled his hood back on and turned towards the door.

"Where are you going?" It was a hesitant question. He was afraid he already knew.

He stopped moving as he answered. "I'm going to look for them. I need to see him again, but ... I'll probably run across your half first."  
"He's stubborn. He's not going to trust you," Riku warned warily.

"I know. My half was like that, too."

"He might still kill you. Just like the rest."

"Yeah. I know. But you know all about it. How can I rea-"

"'Really die if you're not really living,' something like that?"

"Heh. Exactly." He walked away, heading into the darkness of the night outside.

Riku hurriedly rose, following him. He called out once he reached the door.

Axel wasn't leaving quite yet. He turned his eyes toward the sky. "What, you coming with me or something?" he asked with a laugh. He was starting to sound like normal, now that his conclusion had been made. As he stared upwards, he exhaled deeply into the chilled, humid air. "...Smells like rain."

"I'll be there. Not right away, but I'll be there."

The redhead grinned. "Well, it's a big place. Doubt I'll see you there."

Slight worry. "What are you planning to...?"

"Whatever I need to. Don't know if I could even pretend to expect to make it out of this one," he admitted, still smiling a little solemnly.

Riku nodded, accepting. It was all he really could do. "I hope you find him."

Axel turned away again, waving a hand before outstretching it to open a portal. "If I don't make it ... tell them I really am sorry." He took a step forward, then paused. "See you in the next life."

Riku stared on as the redhead made his exit. He pulled up his own hood and summoned his own portal before he looked again at the spot where Axel had been standing moments ago.

"The next life..." He considered the thought fondly, as opposed to feeling sorrow about the situation, what he knew would be another loss.

"Next life. Yeah, Axel. I've got it memorized."


End file.
